… CONTINUED
“So, where did you get to last night?” This was Lynda on the phone.
“Nowhere, I was here.” Well that wasn’t a lie, was it?
“So what did you get up to? Or whom?” She was nothing if not grammatical.
“What do you mean, my sweet?”
“I mean, you didn’t have another game of Triv by any chance?”
“My darling, the Triv is still in its box in the sideboard, with a little note in the top to remind us where we left off the night before last. After all, it’s no fun playing it on your own.” Notice that both of these statements are the absolute truth. Over the years I’ve discovered that I find lying very difficult. On the other hand, missing out large chunks of the truth is really easy if you’ve been practicing it as long as I have.
“But I phoned at about nine and you didn’t answer.”
“Yeah, sorry, the phone battery was flat, so it was in the bedroom, on charge.”
“Oh, I see. Talk to you soon. Love you.”
“You too, Lyn.” That wasn’t bad going, even for me. Only one lie in the entire conversation. I had put the phone on silent the second the game started.
A few days later we were sitting in our favourite pub talking about nothing in particular. In the far corner a TV was on, and Lynda suddenly came out with some obscure fact about one of the actors in the soap that was showing.
“You never watch this,” I said, “How did you know that?”
“No idea,” Lynda admitted. “Perhaps it’s come up in Triv at some time. Oh, that’s a point. Fancy a game of Triv tomorrow?”
“Don’t see why not.”
“Let’s have it round at yours, do you want to invite Julie?”
“If you like.” I was trying to sound casual. I phoned Julie, making sure the first thing I told her was that I was with Lynda. I didn’t want her to think I was on my own, and come out with something incriminating. She didn’t, but she did bite my hand off when I suggested meeting for a Triv game the following evening.
So twenty-two hours hence, Lynda and I found ourselves in my flat, drinks and snacks set out, scatter cushions … well, scattered on the hearthrug, electric fire and standard lamp on, and, most importantly, Triv board set up as per my notes from a week or so before. The doorbell rang and I went to answer it. Julie was stood there in a bright yellow blouse, flame red micro skirt, suede high-heeled boots … and those sexy black tights again.
“Wow, that’s a pretty impressive getup just to walk across the road.” I was getting a semi even as I spoke. I showed her into the living room and could practically see Lynda’s hackles rise; her outfit was nice, but next to Julie’s looked positively dowdy. It was all black and I had to admit, made her look utterly sexy, but now seemed to lack a certain something.
Julie took a seat, took a sip of her drink, and took charge. She looked at the board, and the notes I had made.
“OK, so we all have a pink wedge … sorry, cheese! Everard and I each have an orange and a brown, also he has a yellow and I have a green. So we are joint leaders and you are last, Lynda. On the other hand you won the previous game by being the last naked, and Ev lost by being the first naked.”
She put my notes down, and she and Lynda glanced conspiratorially at one another. I noticed some of the animosity between them starting to dissipate.
“He didn’t notice, did he?” Both girls dissolved into fits of giggles.
“Notice what?”
“Ev,” Lynda took over. “We were ganging up on you.”
“What?”
Back to Julie. “Every chance we got, we were nominating you. That’s why you lost. You went into the kitchen to get more drinks about a third into the game, and we cooked it up between us while you were gone.”
“Bastards.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. The giggles increased.
“You poor love. We’ll be fair this time, though, won’t we Julie?”
“Well, we might.” They both went into gales of laughter, and I had to wait several minutes before I could restart the game.
The last thing I had done was to win a cheese so it was still my turn. I got the first question right, ended up back on the cheese a couple of questions later, and got the point. I chose Lynda and a pair of black patent leather slingbacks went under the coffee table. A run of good luck won me the blue cheese so the boots joined the slingbacks. I had nearly reached the next cheese when I got one wrong letting Julie in. Her next destination after the orange was either yellow or blue, neither of which she had. She chose yellow, got it and nominated me, so I was shoeless.
To get to the blue cheese square, Julie had to go through orange, which she already had. She didn’t get it, so the blouse had to go. Damn! She was wearing a bra again. The good news, though, was that it was a carbon copy of the translucent one from a few nights before. Then Lynda took over the reins and went back to the pink cheese, which she already had, but she could win the point. She did and nominated me. Were they ganging up on me again? I wasn’t worried at this stage; it was only socks.
It was now Lynda’s turn for some good luck, winning a green cheese next, which she called ‘moon rock’ just to taunt me. Her nomination, however, was Julie, so my relief at not being chosen was tempered with disappointment in seeing the black tights disappear. It was at this point that I realised Lynda wasn’t wearing any tights.
Lynda got lucky again, winning the brown cheese and once more nominating Julie. Julie chose to take the bra off rather than the skirt, which raised my hopes that she might not be wearing any knickers just like last time. Seeing her breasts again made me realise how amazing they were. I crawled over and kissed them hello, but got a black look from Lynda, so sat down again.
Lynda got to the blue cheese (or ‘stilton’ as I called it) but failed to get it, so lost her sheer black blouse. Underneath, the bra was black too; skimpier than Julie’s, but not at all transparent. She passed me the dice and I threw for my turn. A lucky guess on a sports and leisure question saw me knocking on the door of an orange cheese. (Damn, sport again.) Once more, I already had the cheese but could still win the point. What, I was asked, was a crossbow arrow called? Anyone who watched The Golden Shot in their youth knows it’s called a bolt.
Now, I had a difficult decision. I had positioned myself directly opposite Julie, so thanks to her short skirt, I now knew she was wearing white panties. Lynda’s skirt, however, was a fair bit longer, which denied me that view. Anyway, if I chose Lynda she might go for the bra instead. Eventually, having noticed Lynda’s seething the last time I chose Julie, I said, “Lyn, it’s you.”
Lynda stood up and eased the skirt off, revealing a black G-string with the tiniest triangle of sheer fabric covering her slit – or rather, very nearly not covering it. Wow. She was going all out to impress me. These two were at war.
TO BE CONTINUED …
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